Temper Control
by FloraAlice
Summary: To practice controlling their temper, Franziska and Edgeworth compete in a challenge. Edgeworth must tolerate Wendy Oldbag's ceaseless flirtations and rants without interjecting. Franziska must sit through an interview with Lotta Hart without reaching for her easily-accessible whip. Who can endure longer? Game on. Written For JusticeForNoOne!


**And now, FloraAlice is once again proud to present- What!? NOT Fredgeworth smut? An outrage! Well, this certainly _is_ Fredgeworth, despite my best efforts to keep this platonic for the sake of my lovely, loyal reader who's a Fradrian fan... I did my best to write for part of your prompt, dear JusticeForNoOne, and can only pray that you will enjoy this! Thank you to heaven and back for your continued support!**

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"Winner takes all."

"All of what?"

"All of everything."

"Deal."

And so it was done. Franziska von Karma and Miles Edgeworth maintained fervid eye-contact, exchanging a brief and firm handshake. Immediately after, their formality metaphorically collapsed, whereas Franziska physically collapsed into the warmth of her lover's chest. Edgeworth kissed the top of her head, as the woman muttered, "Why did you even suggest such a silly game?"

"Because a certain _gorgeous German vixen_ of mine could use some practice controlling her whip-happy self around others, so I'm told," he smirked.

"Can I help it if the world is full of foolish fools!?" she replied exasperatedly, pushing away. With a sigh, she gave him a coy smile. "I'm only putting up with the farce because it'll be incredibly sweet to see you face a crushing defeat, Miles Edgeworth." She twirled her whip around a finger, tugging it taut.

Edgeworth simply shook his head. "You seem terribly sure of yourself, which is a shame, considering I'm going to win." He hooked a finger under her chin and closed the gap between them. "I want everything that you can give me, Franziska von Karma, and I'm ready to fight for it." Bringing his warm lips towards hers, was about to kiss her again, when-

"Oh Lawdy Lawd, would ya lookit that? He's really pourin' out the sugar; they're gettin' all lovey-dovey like! Reckon it's only a matter of time 'fore they get all snug an' roll around in that hay!"

Before either one of them could respond, a blazing barrage of camera flashes hit the pair of prosecutors, bringing a smile to the afro-sporting country gal behind the shutter. Despite the cries of protest, Lotta Hart continued to take photographs, completely disabling Edgeworth's and Franziska's eyes. Taking advantage of their temporary blindness, the room's fourth occupant charged in between the couple, interjecting something along the lines of:

"EDGEY-POO! How dare you get all frisky with a whipper-snapping whippersnapper like this and leave me to die alone like the rambunctious old hag that my late husband always accused me of being? Don't you know that age and experience can make up for just about anything else? That's true for everything but food, and is doubly true with women! The oldun's are the goodun's, that's what I used to tell myself back when I was in the fourth grade and all the kids in my class would tease me about my name would you believe it, and my only friend was my grandma! I mean, what can she give you that I can't? She busty, sure, but let me tell you Edgey-kins, those things are overrated and just get in the way of everything, and flatter skin feels so much nicer, mind you a few wrinkles here and there can add a nice touch, and I've got-"

"Will you stop?" Edgeworth aggressively suggested, forcibly removing Wendy Oldbag from his arm. The old woman moaned frustratedly, sulking, "But Edgey-poo, I thought this was a date!"

"An' I reckoned it was an interview!" Lotta cried, "I was fishin' for a scoop when I got called inta this here deal."

Franziska cleared her throat. "It's something along those lines, yes. Lotta Hart, you are free to ask me questions as you please, but this will be entirely off-the-record. As for you, Wendy Oldbag…" She narrowed her eyes fiercely. "You will be allowed to talk to Miles."

"Bah! I don't need your permission to talk to my Edgey-poo, you wretched skank!" hissed the Wicked Witch of the Witness Stand.

"Ooh! Izer some sorta love triangular stirrin' here?" Lotta pulled out a notepad and began vigorously taking notes.

Franziska and Edgeworth locked eyes. The competition was about to begin. Here they were, possibly the two most annoying women on the planet, ready to put the prosecutors to the ultimate test. Here are the rules of their contest:

\- Franziska would sit through an interview with Lotta, answering questions as she sees fit. Edgeworth will hold a (mostly one-sided) conversation with Oldbag, listening to every word.  
\- The use of any sort of courtroom lingo, whether "Take that!" or "Hold it!" results in instant loss.  
\- Any finger-pointing or desk-slamming results in an instant loss.  
\- If Franziska uses her whip, she automatically loses.  
\- If Edgeworth interrupts a rant, he automatically loses.  
\- The winner gets everything from the loser: love, thoughts, body, mind, etc.  
\- The competition begins as soon as everyone sits down.

With those rules in mind, the prosecutors rested themselves on two back-to-back chairs. Oldbag sat facing Edgeworth, and Lotta facing Franziska.

Game. On.

"First question:" Lotta started immediately, suddenly jolting over and grabbing Franziska by the cravat. "Why are these frilly doohickeys all the rage with you prosecutin' folk?"

"Unhand me at once!" she rasped, dropping her whip in her lap to ensure it remained unused. Fortunately, Lotta understood the deadly tone in her voice and slinked back to her seat. Gasping for air, Franziska explained, "To start, it's called a cravat, you foolish fool, not 'frilly doohickey' or whatever foolishness you just said. It is simply a fashion statement; I feel it adds a touch of class to my apparel."

Scratching her hair, the bumpkin said, "Yeah, I guess, but you AND that Edgeworth feller? Not to mention that scary ol' Von Karmer from years ago…"

The prosecutor's face fell. "You knew my father?"

Meanwhile, on the other side of the chair, Edgeworth was getting the story of a lifetime from Wendy Oldbag.

"And then, when I was seven years I was staying at a hotel by myself because my parents got their own room across the hall 'cause you know how parents are and then the fire alarm went off so I dashed out into the hallway in only my kitty cat pajamas (I've always liked being catty in bed, if you know what I mean), but the door locked behind me if you would believe it, I certainly couldn't, and I was super embarrassed because I got stuck outside in the hotel hallway and at the time I wasn't wearing any undergarments 'cause I've always slept that way, still do, but that's besides the point! Anyway, I ran down the seven or eight flights of stairs with my bare feet and mind you that even as a child I had a bad back so that was torture, but when I finally got to the lobby to ask for a spare key do you know what the lobby man said to me? Do you know, Edgey-poo?"

Edgey-poo was still trying to process all the horrendous, brain-scorching information that had just been hurled at him in true word vomit fashion. Barely managing to speak, he stuttered, "N-no. What did he say to you?"

"He said it was just a fire drill!" The old windbag sobbed overdramatically, "Oh, but did poor Wendy Oldbag know that? Of course not, 'cause nobody ever tells Wendy Oldbag anything!"

Edgeworth allowed himself to facepalm, using the opportunity to rub his aching temples. _Why me?_

Lotta nodded in response to Franziska's question, "Darn tootin'! I gotta tell ya, Manfred von Karma's gotter be the right scariest man I ever laid peepers on! The man made me feel more useless than tits on a bull. He's your Paw, ain't he?"

The woman cringed, squeezing her sleeve. "Yes, he _was_ my Papa…"

"Ooh, izze dead!?" Lotta cheered, "Well, I'll be a monkey's uncle! It's good ta hear he finally kicked the bucket; he'd done deserved it for all he'd done! Good riddance!"

"I beg your pardon?" Franziska roared. Sure, she'd had mixed feelings about her father, especially after getting together with Miles, but this was utterly uncalled for! She'd just informed the damn buffoon that her relative was deceased, and her reaction was unrestrained joy!? The woman clenched her whip tightly. This might be one game she had to lose...

Oldbag shrugged, "So, I finally got the courage to ask the boy out, the captain of the chess team, speaking of, you love chess don't you Edgey-dearest? Oh, I've always had a soft spot for chess players, since there are so many kinky things that can be associated with that game, but regardless, the stupid whippersnapper turned me down because my birthday is in October and his was in November and he didn't like 'older women'. I mean, age is just a number, for crying out loud, and back in my day girls were married off at fourteen, so I was well within the right time frame! Now that I'm older and wiser, I dare say I'm better than all of those other snappers! I also have an excellent eye for men, with Juan and Hammer, and of course you, my darling, but you have grey hair too, so I assume you share at least some of my age and wisdom and surely you can see all the sparks flying between us right? RIGHT!?"

Edgeworth slowly nodded, not wanting to upset the woman into another rant. Oldbag sighed contently. "You're such a good listener, Edgey-poo. We should do this more often!" The hag batted her eyelashes, blowing a kiss and saying, "You could really just lose old teal-hair over there, and get yourself with a real woman!"

 _Certainly NOT_! Edgeworth mentally growled, Bloody hell, if this lasts any longer I'll lose the last of my sanity! I might have no choice but to give in…

Franziska was still speechless from her interviewer's last remark. Lotta was vigorously jotting something down in her notebook, then she looked up with fire in her eyes. "Say, ain't you and Mister Edgeworth kinfolk?"

"Pardon?" she sternly questioned.

"Y'know, he's your brother, ain't he? Whoo-wee! This right here's a big scoop! Now, I thought most city-folk ain't fond of swinging that way, but whatever floats yer goat!"

Franziska was growling at this point, her whip in grasp. "Miles Edgeworth is NOT my brother!"

Edgeworth gritted his teeth. "Like I've repeatedly insisted, Mrs. Oldbag, I appreciate your generous offer, but I'm fine with Franziska!"

"Aww, c'mon, snookums!" she cooed, "We would have such a happy life together, just you and me… you know I'd keep you satisfied, Edgey-poo!"

Lotta scowled, "He sure seems like a brother ta me! Weren't he adopted by yer Paw?"

"Never officially by law!" Franziska seethed, "And we aren't even close to being blood-related!"

Edgeworth agreed, "I'm sure you could, Mrs. Oldbag, but Franziska-"

"Don't get caught up on that whippersnapper wench!" Oldbag squealed, "You're breaking my heart!"

Lotta shook her afro side to side. "That's just nasty."

"I love him!" Franziska bellowed.  
"And I love her!" Edgeworth concluded.

"But…"  
"Edgey…"

 **"OBJECTION!"**  
 ***CRACK***

There was a moment of silence in the room, filled with infinite tension. Everyone froze to observe Miles Edgeworth, in full 'objection' pose, pointing his finger, not at the old windbag, but the nosy reporter who was badgering his lady love. At the exact same time, when Franziska von Karma had finally lost it and swung her whip, it was not at Lotta Hart, but toward the cranky stalker who refused to stop flirting with her man!

"Wendy Oldbag," she demanded, "You foolish, foolish, FOOL of an imbecile of an ignoramus! I've had ENOUGH of your endless ranting! Why can't you accept that he just doesn't want you that way!? You will leave my Miles Edgeworth ALONE from now on, or I will whip that leathery skin of yours raw!"

"Lotta Hart," Edgeworth scowled, "Allow me to explain why you are a failure of a reporter: you're completely insensitive and rude. You refuse to quit when people clearly want you to stop badgering them. You ignore simple, logical facts for the sake of coming up with an interesting story! That bending of the truth I cannot condone."

Franziska sighed deeply, waving a hand. "You are both dismissed. I never want to see your faces again."

Both Lotta and Oldbag instantly skedaddled, fearing the threatening tone in the German's voice. The remaining woman took a seat, and Edgeworth pulled up a chair beside her, patting her leg and offering, "Thank you for doing that. I doubted even a finger point could deliver the amount of suffering I wanted to give the cougar for insulting you like that."

"It was nothing," Franziska bit her lip. "I suppose I should thank you for silencing that no-good reporter. The real question is, who won?"

Edgeworth considered this. "I think we both broke simultaneously. That means we both lost."

Smiling, the woman spelled out, "So you give your everything to me, and I give mine to you?"

"Sounds logical to me," he grinned. "In that case, I guess you could say we both won. I think I like it that way, Franziska." Gently, he reached his arms around her waist and pulled her into his lap, kissing her neck. Stroking his hair, the woman whispered, "So do I."

And thus, this farce of a competition ended. Why was it a farce? No, not because they both lost and won. It was a farce because the prizes were things they already had, whether they knew it or not.

You see, Franziska von Karma and Miles Edgeworth had fully belonged to each other from the very start.

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 **Hmm... What a corny ending. I must've been tired when I wrote this. Welp, thanks for reading! I hope you liked it, and for all those smut fans out there, I WILL post some hotter stuff soon (aka within this month)!**


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